


Experience is the Teacher

by holeybubushka



Series: The Prank Was Foiled AU [2]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas In July | Christmas Out Of Season, Clothed Sex, F/F, F/M, Gen, Get together fic, Josh has many ideas, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Until Dawn Secret Santa 2018, but still, sex with someone in the room, this person is sleeping, very nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holeybubushka/pseuds/holeybubushka
Summary: A Christmas in July party at the Washington abode is as choatic as it sounds, but after a draining semester Ashley Brown is ready to let go and enjoy the night's festivities.  She hopes Chris will, too.ORThe Chris/Ashley get-together-story that they will definitely NOT be sharing with the grandkids





	Experience is the Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Raspa. I couldn't be more thrilled to write for one of the most talented artists in fandom, who has indulged and drawn so much free art for me. I was determined to give you something in return for your kindess over the years, and I hope this suffices.
> 
> Also, heed the tags. A lot of alcohol is consumed at this party and the explicit rating is certainly earned.

Joshua Washington may be the most ridiculous person Ashley Brown has ever met.

She hitches her bag over her shoulder staring, agog, up at the Washington mansion.

When Josh had told her he was planning to throw a “Christmas in July” party, she hadn’t known what to expect. In all honesty, she thought the whole thing was just a thin veneer in order to get drunk but boy, does she know better now.

The whole mansion is decked out with flashing lights, tinsel and colourful wreaths. There’s shiny ornaments and glitter everywhere she looks, as well baubles bobbing the breeze. The front yard is coated in a layer of fine snow, which is impressive. Considering it’s still 90 degrees outside.

A fake snow machine. She shouldn’t expect anything less.

“Ashhhleyyyyyyyyy.”

“Hey,” she beams as Josh bounds towards her, dressed in a carefully disheveled Santa suit. She hands him a present. “For the host.”

“Thanks! I’ll cherish it.”

“It’s just chocolate.”

“Then I’ll cherish it even more. ‘Tis the season and all that.”

“Josh, it’s _July_.”

“Not tonight, it isn’t. It’s a winter wonderland.” His eyes, always canny, slide over her. “I see you got into the theme. Nice sweater.”

She squirms, picking at the heavy woolen material self consciously. “My mom got it for me. We used to do ugly Christmas sweaters as part of our tradition. I liked Rudolph as a kid, so she got me this sweater in the fourth grade.” And she’s never been able to part with it since. Not that she’ll tell Josh that.

“Aw,” he smiles, taking her by the arm and leading her up his cobbled driveway. “That’s sweet. I used to sing ‘Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer’ to my sisters when they were kids. It always made them smile.”

“Even Beth?”

“Especially Beth.”

“That’s cute.” Ashley glances over a gaggle of girls she doesn’t know who are clustered near the front door. They’ve all dressed up as slutty elves. She tugs at her collar, suddenly feeling frumpy.

“Don’t worry,” Josh says. “You weren’t the only one who did the Christmas sweater thing.”

Her breath catches in her throat as they enter the mansion. It’s freezing, the frigid air smacking her right in the face.  Outside it’s a traditional, dry Californian summer day, but inside it’s cold enough to chill a person right down to the bone.

“Josh!” Ashley whacks his arm. “Don’t you care about climate change! It’s freezing in here.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was talking to _Sam_ . I needed to make it cold. It’s _Christmas_ in _July_. I’m just going with the theme.”

“Sammy got mad at him already, Ashley. Give him a break,” Hannah says, appearing to her left. A step behind her is Sam, who looks faintly aggrieved.

“I’m glad someone agrees with me, Han. Cranking up the air conditioning is so bad for the environment. Don’t you guys care about the planet?”

“Whatever,” Josh shrugs at Sam. “The world is going to burn anyway. I’m here for a good time, not a long time. Speaking of,” he hands Ashley a drink. “Eggnog?”

She grins, taking the drink from his grasp. “You’re outrageous.”

“Guilty as charged. Wanna see who else is here?”

+++

Who else is here is Jessica Reilly, dressed in an outfit so scantily ludicrous Ashley almost spills her eggnog all over herself.

“Uh. Wow.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.I thought I’d get into the theme, so I’m Santa’s Little Helper.”

That’s one way of putting it. She’s dressed in a stretch velvet santa dress with faux fur trim, and a tight black belt curved around her waist, accentuating her curves. Jess’ legs are bare, her skirt covering practically nothing, and she’s balancing gracefully on a pair of black high heels. It’s the kind of buxom beauty Ashley could never pull off.

“Great. You look very...helpful.”

“Thanks. And you look...very sweet. Is that Rudolph?”

She flushes. She always feels small around Jess. “Yeah.”

“Ho, ho, ho. Hello little girls. Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

Jess’ voice is a purr. “What’s the point of being nice, Santa?”

“Well, only good girls get rewards,” Josh says. He’s walked up behind them, but his eyes are only for Jess.

“Oh. But surely I’ve been good enough to get my stocking stuffed?”

“Maybe you have. I’m sure I’ve got a delicious candy cane for you to suck around here.”

Ashley gapes at them. How the hell can they be so brazen? Ashley would rather sink through the floor than be caught talking like that in public.

“Oh, you’re naughty,” Jess titters. She runs her hands over Josh’s costumed chest. He takes a huge gulp of his drink. “Play your cards right, Santa, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m going to...go over here, now,” Ashley squeaks, backing away.

“Chris is looking for you,” Josh calls to her, before turning his attention back to Jess, whispering something into her ear that Ashley is grateful she doesn’t catch.

Chris? Her heart skips at his name. She looks around, hoping her friend will materialise, a big broad smile on his open hearted face. But no.

She’s alone.

Ashley sighs. She shouldn’t look too eager to see him anyway. They’re friends, and nothing more. She may wish otherwise, but it’s not _just_ up to her. If something was going to happen between them, surely it would have already. It's not as if she hasn’t given him enough signals. She may as well be blowing a foghorn in his face.

She makes her way into the kitchen, weaving her way through the throng of people. She’s parched, the egg nog not doing enough to sate her thirst when -

“Ashley!”

Chris. Her friend makes his way through the crowd with much more grace than she does. Being taller than almost anyone else has its advantages. “There you are! Come out into the hallway.”

“Hey, it’s good to see you...and...wow.” Her voice trails off as she sees his outfit. He’s clad in comfortable faded jeans, his blonde hair carefully coiffed. The reflection from the Christmas lights are bouncing off his glasses, but the colors don’t obscure his baby blue eyes. His soft, almost plump lips are curved into a smile. He looks utterly, searingly, handsome.

Not that he knows it.

There’s also the sweater though.  It’s a bukly, woolen thing, twice his size, making his enormous frame balloon out further. It's navy blue, with a large silvery Menorah displayed on the front, with the text: ‘This is how we Jew it.’

“Oh,” he looks down. “Do you like it?”

“I do. Isn’t this a Christmas-themed party though?”

“Yeah, but I’m Jewish. So.”

Her blush deepens. “Oh! I knew that. I’m such a goober. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m liking your theme, too. Rudolph, right? Your favorite Reindeer, if I remember correctly.”

“He is! He’s clearly the best. Dasher, Dancer and Vixen were just jealous.” She smiles. “Looks like only you and me got the ‘ugly sweater’ memo.’”

“I dunno. I think you look good. Your sweater, I mean.”

“Oh. Thanks. You look good too.”

They smile, the look lingering just a little too long. Ashley’s isn’t sure what to do when things get fraught between them. Sometimes the tension is so thick she’s scared she’ll choke it on. But it never lasts. Once the awkwardness fades away they carry on, as if nothing has ever happened.

 _It’s enough to drive a woman to drink_ , she thinks wryly, chugging her egg nog.

“Why are you drinking that stuff? You hate egg nog?”

“I’m drinking it because I have to. Is there anything else other than fake-Christmas-themed stuff here?”

Chris grins. “My lady, I think you’ll find when it comes to the illegal seizure of spirits, I am your man.”

“You’re a doofus, more like. But…”

“But?”

“You had me at ‘illegal seizure of spirits.’”

“Excellent,” he offers her his arm. “Follow me.”

+++

Ashley sneaks down the hallway. Chris says other than Mr Washington’s locked cabinet, the best alcohol is stored in the basement. It’s like a labyrinth down here, though, each passageway melding together. There’s no decorations on the walls either: Clearly the Washingtons didn’t expect anyone to make it so far inside.

“Chris,” she isn’t sure why she’s whispering. “Where are you?”

“Down here,” he sounds close. “You can wait there if you want. Josh has a whole case of expensive rum down here. I’ll find it and bring up some bottles.

She smiles. It’s a little exciting to be here, alone with Chris down in the bowels of the mansion. She knows they shouldn’t be here. And they definitely shouldn’t be swiping booze.

It feels illicit. Naughty.

Wrong.

A shiver runs down her spine at that the thought.

“Ash?”

“Yeah, uh,” why is she blushing? “I’ll wait here.”

Chris grunts in reply. She hears him rattling around in the basement, moving boxes out of the way. In her imagination,  his burly, thick body is straining hard. He is probably hot underneath that sweater, a fine sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, making him glow in the dull light.

 _Jesus_ , she shakes her head. She needs to _stop_.

Down the hall she hears a woman laugh. That’s unusual. She didn’t expect any other partygoers down here. Curious, she follows.

The noise came from the movie room. She’s only been there a few times. Mostly she sticks to Josh’s basement or the living room when she’s over here. But it’s a shame the room has fallen into relative disuse. It’s gorgeous, the sleek movie screen taking up almost the entire back wall, with ten large, comfy recliners dotted around the room.

In two of them are Beth and Emily.

Ashley hides behind the curtain, intrigued. She’s never seen Beth and Emily hangout without Jess as their buffer. The pair of them had a stilted relationship in high school. Ashley supposes that's natural when you're fierce academic rivals.  

There's no tension now, the pair of them splayed out on their respective seats, talking in low, warm voices.

“If I ever buy a mansion I’m going to make sure it has a bitching movie room like this,” Emily swirls her drink, cocking a well-manicured eyebrow at Beth. “Think of all the opportunities. You ever take a girl down here?”

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, Em.”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Well, I have, but nothing vulgar went down. So to speak.”

“Really? Not even your high school conquests? We all know you were a whore back in the day.” The words sound harsh, but Emily’s smile takes the sting off it.

Beth snorts. “I really wasn’t as bad as you all make out.”

“Lila Murkowski.”

“I did _not_ fuck her at school.”

“I know. But you did fuck her.”

Beth smirks, in that long, languid, Washington-way. “Well, yeah.”

Emily frowns, rolling her glass between her fingers. She looks like she’s mulling something over. “I was surprised when I heard that. She dated Jack Walsh all through Junior year, right? And at senior prom she kept rubbing herself all over Matt. It was disgusting.”

“She’s not subtle when she’s interested, that’s true.”

“That’s my point. Since when did she decide she was interested? What, did she wake up one day and decide to eat some Washington cooch?”

Beth laughs, kicking her leg in Emily’s direction. “I guess she was curious? That’s what she said to me, anyway. We just took it from there.”

“I see,” Emily shifts, a flicker of unease darting across her face. Ashley inches forward, intrigued.  She's got an ear for gossip and right now the air feels laced with secrets.

“Hello? Ash? Ashley?”

Damnit! She scrambles backwards,almost stumbling into Chris

Chris looks bewildered. “Hey. Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing,” she squeaks. “Waiting for you.”

“Who’s there? Hello? Ashley?” Emily’s voice sounds suspicious.  “Is that you?”

“Hey guys,” she says, taking a tentative step out from behind the curtain, Chris heavy on her heels.

“Oh great. Chris. You’re here too.” Emily looks unimpressed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You two are a packaged deal.”

“Hey!” Chris yelps.

“We’re not,” Ashley sputters at the same time.

“Whatever. Why exactly are you here? I thought you’d be keeping an eye on Boy Wonder? Or,” she smirks, “were you looking for some privacy?”

Her heart thuds in her chest. She hopes Chris can’t hear it. “No, we -”

Her feeble excuse dies in her throat as a small, giggly girl sticks her head around the door.

“Whoah, Mike your friends are here too.”

The girl, who Ashley recognises as Mike’s current squeeze, although for the life of her she can't remember her name, breezes into the room, dragging Mike behind her.

“Oh,” Mike looks dismayed.  “Uh. Hey, party people.”

“Aw, I didn’t know your friends were down here, Mike,” his girlfriend chirps. “It’s like our own little party.” She beams at them. Ashley feels a stab of pity. She has the wide-eyed innocence that Mike seems to crave post-Emily: girls who are free and easy and in awe of him. Freshmen who are too naive to see the guillotine hanging above their heads.

“Yeah, well I guess it’s great to see everyone,” Mike licks his lips. “Except  I was hoping our party was going to be a little more...private, babe.If you get my meaning.”

“Really, Mike? The _cinema room_? Classy.”

“C’mon, Em, don’t be like that.”

“Be like what, exactly?”

“Five bucks Emily gouges his eyes out,” Ashley can hear the smile in Chris’ voice as he leans to whisper in her ear.

“Okay, no one is having a ‘private party’ down here,” there's  a finality to Beth's voice as she stands up.

“But-”

“ _Especially_ you, Munroe. That’s it, everyone, get out. And I mean everyone.”

“Quick,” Ashley whispers to Chris, shoving him backwards. They need to get out of there before Beth spies the two bottles of rum in Chris’ hands. The youngest Washington can be a killjoy sometimes.

And Ashley plans on having fun tonight.

 

+++

The party has begun in earnest when Josh catches her eye. It’s hard to miss him, with his baggy santa suit and with his floppy hat sitting jauntily askance on his head.

“If I saw you crawling down my chimney as a kid, I would have run the other way,” she teases.

“Ah, I would’ve won you over with my animal magnetism.” He winks. His heavy lidded eyes seem sleepier than usual. When he leans towards her, Ashley gets a whiff of his rum doused breath. Jesus. It’s a little early, even for him.

“I want to ask you something. Is this… I mean, I think this needs a female touch.” He gropes his costume, searching for a pocket. When he finds one, he pulls out a small, package. It’s covered in a fine silk wrapping, and Josh easily undoes the bow. Ashley’s impressed. Josh is so tanked she’s surprised he’s not swaying on the spot.

“Josh, oh my god.” The present is three soft, acrylic iphone cases. On the back of each case is a black and white portrait of Jess. Each shot is a joyful tableau. Jess, hair whipping her face as she sits in the passenger seat in a convertible. Jess, beaming around her straw as she drinks a 7-11 slushie. Jess, her chin on her hand, smiling mischievously as she lolls around on a picnic rug.

These pictures are intimate, taken with a lovers lens. She almost feels like she’s intruding just by looking at them.

“Josh,” she says quietly. “It’s… beautiful.”

“You think she’ll like it? I mean, it’s just a little thing. And it’s Christmas. Well, fake Christmas. And she’s always dropping her phone, so, I thought this’ll come in handy. But I just thought, you know, it would be good to get a female perspective that isn't my sisters for once.”

“Yeah,” she says carefully. Josh smiles, his face softening, looking down at Jess’ with dewy eyes. His face is almost tender, which is at odds with his usual studied indifference when he talks about Jess. That raw, untrammelled energy is muted, replaced by something softer, meeker.

If she didn’t know better, she’d think Joshua-manwhore-Washington was completely and utterly smitten.

“Josh,” she says cautiously. “Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“You and Jess?”

His eyes narrow. “No. I just wanted your advice on the present.”

“I'm just saying,  if you ever want to talk about you and Jess,  you can tell me anything -”

“It’s fine,” Josh says, suddenly brusque.  “I’m just being nice. She’s nice to me. I’m _really_ nice to her. I’m sure she’ll figure out a way to thank me later.”

“Oh.” He’s shut up now, walling himself off, like he always does when she’s found a chink in his armour. She wishes he wouldn’t. She knows there’s a heart there, full and sweet and desperate to love. He doesn’t have to hide from her.

“There you are,” Chris says from nowhere. His long fingers brush Ashley’s back. “Josh, did anyone tell you your costume is ridiculous?”

“Are you serious? You look like a muffin gone wrong.”

“You look like Syphilis Santa.”

“You look like frozen foreskin.”

“You both look hideous. There. I settled it.”

“Ashley!”

“What?” she laughs, flicking Josh’s nose.  He grins back, downing the rest of his drink.

“Do I really look that bad?” Chris teases back. “I thought you said I rocked this ugly sweater?”

“I was blinded by eggnog. I see clearly now. You look like a squishy cupcake.”

“Oh, so you mean I look good enough to eat?”

“I’ll let you know when I'm hungry,” she prods his belly, fluttering her eyelids. Chris laughs, as if it’s all a big joke. Maybe it is to him. She swears she sees something glint in his eyes, but it’s probably just the light reflecting off his glasses.

It's easy to flirt under the guise of a joke. That’s all they’ve been doing for years. Sometimes, though, she wonders what Chris would do if the joke turned serious. If she dragged him onto the couch and smashed their mouths together so hard she could _taste_ him?

Her cheeks burn. She chugs her run, grateful that Chris isn’t a mindreader. He’s innocent, and rumour has it he's barely been kissed, let alone taken a woman to bed. If he knew the filth that slithered through Ashley’s  brain he would probably expire on the spot.

“Bethy-Beth-Beth-Beth,” Josh says, calling the youngest Washington over from the other side of the room. He slings lazy arm around her shoulder. “You having fun?”

“Sure. But if the cops show up to close this party down I am not dealing with them.”

He kisses her cheek. “Have faith, lil’ sis. I'll handle it. Bad Santa is on the case. And if that doesn't work, I'll get Michael over there to talk our way out of a jam. Isn't that right, Munroe?”

Mike’s head turns. “You talking to me?”

“No, the other tall, dark drink-of-water named Mike.” Josh’s smile turns indulgent. “And who do we have here? How long have you known our esteemed class president?”

“I'm Sinead,” she frowns. “We met last month. Just after Mike and I made it official.”

“Ah, well. It's a fantabulous pleasure to meet you again, Sinead. Please enjoy everything the Washington household has to offer. I'd give you to the tour but I'm sure Mike is taking good care of you.”

“You know it,” Mike smarms. “You need a drink, babe?”

“I'll get it,” Sinead sends them a tepid smile. She's probably trying to get away from Josh. Ashley can't blame her. Her friend is in a leeringly salubrious mood tonight. It's  a lot for the uninitiated to handle.

“ _Nice_ ,” Josh says to Mike.

“Thanks. What can I say, I got great taste. I was actually kinda hoping Sinead and I could find some privacy, but your pals got in the way.”

“Hey. Sorry to get in the way of your latest conquest, Mike, but the movie room isn't for playing tonsil hockey.”

“Movie theatres are the best place for a little give-and-take, if you know what I mean. Wink.” Mike’s grin hardens. “Oh wait. Maybe you don't know, Chris. Sorry.”

Chris flinches, like a blade has been thrust into his chest. Ashley scowls, wondering whether she could get away with sinking her boot into Mike’s stupid face.

“Mike,” she clears her throat, widens her eyes. She knows how to fake innocence. “I think Sinead looking for you.”

“She is?”

“I saw her waving to you.” She points outside. “Over there.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks Ash.”

Sinead isn't outside,  but if karma is real, Mike will spend forever looking for her, thus ruining his chances of getting laid.

“That was diabolical, Ashley.”Josh says, watching Mike’s retreating figure.

“I know. He deserved it.”

“Thanks,” Chris whispers, so softly that it could be just for them.

“That's okay,” Ashley says back. She holds his gaze. She hopes more than anything he can see Ashley doesn't care that he's inexperienced. That his decency is what counts, not the notches on his headboard. She hopes her eyes convey it. Cause she sure as hell doesn't have the courage to say it outloud.  

 

+++

Ashley wanders outside, pleasantly buzzed from the rum Chris swiped for her. Her friend has disappeared inside, promising to bring back snacks. She glances around. The speaker system is loud, making the ground reverberate around her feet. It feels like Josh invited half his fraternity, who went on to invite half their friends and so on, ending up with this mass of heaving bodies clumped on the Washington’s front lawn.  As she suspected, Josh hired a giant snow machine to coat the grounds. It’s on full blast, spurting powder everywhere. Sam and Hannah are dancing underneath it, twirling and laughing as they’re coated by the plumes of white ice raining from the sky. For someone who is a skilled rock climber, Sam is a little clumsy as she dances. Hannah isn’t though. She moves with an athlete’s grace, swaying and twirling in the wind, her long neck thrown back as she laughs at the moon.

Next to her, she hears a sigh. She turns and spots Matt standing nearby. Despite their proximity, Ashley may as well not exist. Matt is staring at Hannah, a moony expression on his dopey face. Ashley knew about his infatuation with Hannah even before they started going out, but it seems he’s become even more smitten over the past few months.

“Hey,” she says, sidling up next to him. “So, whose crazy idea was it for the snow machine? I thought it was Josh, but now I’m starting to think it was Hannah.”

“Hannah suggested it. Josh took to the next level, though,” her friend, almost reluctantly, pulls his gaze away from Hannah. He pulls Ashley into a side hug. “Hello, stranger.”

“Hello.” She squeezes his side. He feels like a ball of muscle. “I miss you. Can you quit trying to be a college football star in San Diego and stay in LA with me?”

“And do what, exactly?”

“Come to my college! Study with me. We can pour over the literary classics together.”

“No offense, Ash, but I’d have to pay people to read any book I write.”

“I’d read it. Even if it was a stupid football manual.”

He chuckles. “Thanks. I guess. But I think I probably shouldn’t quit my day job.”

“Probably.” She leans over and sniffs at his drink. “Is that alcohol? You told me last week your asshole coach was considering banning your team from drinking?”

“It’s just coke. Coach didn’t end up following through with that. I decided not drink on my own. My body is a temple and all that.”

“So you’re staying here for the night!” She squeezes him tight. He’ll probably whisk Hannah away soon, but at least she’ll get to see him in the morning. Skype conversations just aren’t the same. “Yay! The Washingtons have that coca cluster cereal you love.”

“No, I,” she feels him fidget. “I’m staying with my parents tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” She peers up at him. He can’t meet her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you stay here?”

He squirms.

“Is it Josh? Oh my god,” she fumes. Josh is incorrigible. Considering Hannah’s appalling track record with men, he should be thankful she’s dating someone as decent as Matt. But no, he continues to act like a petulant child about the whole situation, as if he isn’t getting laid on the regular by Jess and god knows who else. And come to think of it, Ashley doesn’t remember him giving Sam this much grief over Beth. Ashley feels anger bloom in her chest. She has half a mind to go find Josh and let him have it. “Don’t listen to him, Matt! He’s an overprotective oaf. You should stay here if you want. Your parents live ages away, anyway. I’ll talk to him-”

“Ashley-”

“It’s not right, Matt! Don’t let Josh bully you.”

“Ash -”

“I should go find him and -”

“Ashley! Josh didn’t do anything. _I_ decided not to stay over here tonight.”

“What? Why on Earth would you do that. Unless…” she feels a stab of panic. “Is everything okay with you and Hannah? Has she done something? Can I help?”  
“Ashley, whoa, slow down.  You talk a mile a minute, has anyone ever told you that?” He wraps his big arms around her, squeezing so tight the air stiffens in Ashley’s lungs. “No. Everything is going really well with us. Too well, actually. That’s, uh, kinda why I decided not to stay over.”

“Okay,” Ashley says skeptically, wiggling out of his embrace. He slings an arm over her shoulders, but again, he seems to be unable to hold her gaze. “You’re leaving me more red herrings than Agatha Christie, Matt. Come on. Spill.”

“Ashley.”

“Spill,” she pokes his side, knowing from childhood experience where his weak spots are. “Spill. Spill. Spilly, spill, spill.”

“Fine! Jeez. Stop the tickle torture already, Ash.” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his short cropped hair. “Just, you know. I’ve stayed over before. And it’s amazing. I love having Hannah in my arms, you know? I miss her when I’m back on campus. But it’s… difficult.”

“Difficult?”

“Yeah, you know…”

“Oh. _Oh_.”

“Right,” Matt says, looking away from her bashfully.

“Are you kidding me? You guys have been dating for ages. You haven’t slept together yet?”

“Hannah has only been with one guy, and well, you know what he did,” Matt scowls. Hannah’s...misfortune was well known in the group. The middle Washington child is a late bloomer. She lost her virginity on a recent European holiday, paid for by her anxious parents.  No doubt they were hoping it would cheer her up after the near disaster of the failed prank up at Blackwood Mountain, but unfortunately their plan went awry. Hannah romanticised the six week affair, but he dumped her as soon as the holiday ended. Ashley was worried Josh was going to hire a hitman.

“Anyway,” Matt continues. “I want our first to be special for her, you know? Something she’ll cherish forever. Not at some skeezy party where she’s drunk and will barely remember it the next day.”

“Then why don’t you stay over anyway? You guys don’t have to screw.”

“Well,” and she swears she feels him shiver. “It’s just...like I said. Difficult. She makes it hard for me to be a gentleman.”

“Ooooh. I see. Wow.  Look at you, Matt. Ladddddiiiiiiiies man.”

“Damn straight!” His smile fades. “And anyway, I can wait. I’ve, um. It’s our five month anniversary in two weeks, and I’ve booked us a hotel room.”

“Oh my god!”

“So if you could stop Josh hunting me down that weekend, I’d really appreciate it. I, really, really, don’t want him interrupting us.”

“Okie doke,” she snuggles into his side, hoping he doesn’t catch her smirk. Frankly, she doesn’t understand why Hannah and Matt are making such a big deal about this. She’s never been delicate about sex. It’s always been about the other person for her, not the circumstance. “I’ll take your secret to my grave, but only cause I like you and don’t want to find your body at the bottom of a canal.”

She hears the heavy crunch of boots before she hears his voice. “Ahem. Sorry. I am interrupting something here?”

Chris is standing behind them, holding a packet of doritos in his hand. Ashley’s heart stutters in her chest.

“No,” she says, wiggling away from Matt. “Of course not.”

“Cool. Cause I can go…”

“Nah, it’s all good man. I should see how Hannah’s going.”

“No, no, don’t leave on my account. Anyway, it’s been a while. How’s the season going? You, uh, killing it down there?”

“Yeah. My team actually wins sometimes, which is a nice change from high school. Anyway,” he clears his throat and starts to make his way towards Hannah and Sam. “Good seeing you.”

Ashley sighs.  There’s tension on her Chris’s face as he watches Matt leave, an uneasiness that he’s barely bothering to hide. She almost wants to grip his broad shoulders and shake him. What right does he have to be upset?

“Anyway, I brought food, but, uh,” he shoves the packet of Doritos in her hands. “I’m parched so I’m going to head inside.”

“Chris, wait!”

Chris turns on his heels and stalks away. His long legs means he’s inside within a minute. She struggles to keep up.

“Chris!”

She panics as she races inside to find him. Half the party seems to have migrated inside. Chris could be anywhere, seething, alone among the throng of people. She can always tell when he’s angry. Subtlety isn’t his strong suit, and anyway, she’s spent years watching him, noting every tiny inflection until she could read him like a book. She thought he reciprocated it. Thought he watched her like she did him.

Well, he’s read her wrong this time. Dead wrong.

Eventually, she finds him in a deserted living room on the other side of the house, hands braced against an intricate wooden cabinet. He looks like a wounded wildebeest, his chest rising unsteadily under his puffy sweater.

“Chris?” She approaches him warily.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you run off? And why were you being all weird to Matt?”

“What, I wasn’t?” He turns to face her. He’s trying so hard to be affable. He’s terrible at it.

“Don’t give me that, Chris.”

“What?”

She scowls. “I chased you half across this stupid mansion for a reason. Why did you run off? What, are you jealous of Matt, or something?”

He blanches. “What? No, of course not.”

“You have no reason to be. He’s my friend.”  
“I know that. I know you don’t date your _friends_.”

She grits her teeth. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What _do_ you mean?” An ugly, mottled blush is creeping up his neck. “I mean, you two were getting pretty comfy.”

She gapes at him. Is Chris serious? Has the booze addled his brain? “That’s not it.”

“Really?” He sneers.

“No, you idiot. Of course not. He’s not the one I want!”

The words bounce off the walls. Chris starts,blinking at her, for once his words failing him .  She takes a step forward. Her heart feels lodged in her throat. She’s shaking, but the alcohol makes her brave. She catches his eye.

If you ask, she thinks. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll take the plunge for us both.

He licks his lips. His enormous frame is quaking, and it takes every inch of her resolve not to wrap her arms around him and bring this torture to an end.

_Ask me. Just give me one clear sign you want this. That’s all I need._

“Oh,” Chris whispers. He adjusts his glasses. “Well, I guess…”

A loud clammer, and then a giggle as Jess and Josh stagger into the room.

“Heyyy,” Jess waves. She’s lost her gloves somewhere during the night. Her chest has almost popped from her bodice as she sucks in an unsteady breath. Josh is all over her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her body close and breathing her in. He’s lost his hat, and his hair is matted and stuck at odd angles.

No prizes to guess what they’ve been doing.

Ashley sighs deeply, seeing the moment slip from her fingers.

“Hey guys,” Josh garbles, completely oblivious. He looks unsteady on his feet.

“Ooh,” Jess smiles brightly at them. “You’re just the people I wanted to see!”

Josh frowns. Under the living room lights Ashley can see lipgloss is smeared across his face. “Really? Didn’t think that was the sort of game you wanted to play.”

“Shut up, doofus. No. I said I wanted to play cards. And it’s better to play cards in a group.”

“You want to play cards?” Chris asks Jess skeptically.

“Not just any card game. The best card game there ever was.”

“And what game would that be?” Ashley frowns.

 

+++

“UNO!”

“Got it again, babe,” Josh grins, nuzzling Jess’ chin as she claps her hands with delight.

“How is she so good at this?” Ashley whispers to Chris.

“I think she’s been playing UNO since she’s been a kid. Also, I mean, it’s not as if Josh is even trying.”

That’s true. Despite the fact they’re in dining room, with plenty of chairs to spare, Jess is perched on Josh’s lap. Their friend seems thrilled with the situation, his eyes bouncing off Jess’ body, lingering greedily over her breasts, the game basically forgotten.

Ashley rolls her eyes, tries to keep the scowl off her face. It’s not fair. It looks so easy for them. How did they do it? How did they broach that line between friends and lovers? One day they were pals, the next Jess was greeting Ashley in the Washington kitchen clad only in Josh’s button down top.

Why do they get to be happy? How can they have what Ashley wants more than anything?

She squeezes her legs together, feeling a dull ache beginning to build between her thighs. God. It’s been _so long_.  It’s been forever since someone touched her with intent, with desire.

And it’s even more unfair cause there are enough drunk idiots here tonight that it wouldn’t be hard to entice someone to fuck. To spread her legs and find just a little bit of relief. But what’s the point? Why chase shadows? She knows what she wants. She’s so close she could even reach out and grab what she needs...

But then… if she’s wrong. If Chris doesn’t really want her…

“Your turn to deal, Ashley.”

“Oh. I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll just concede defeat to Jess and go home.”

“Go home?” Chris says suddenly. “Why?”

She shrugs. She feels sullen all of a sudden.  “I’m pretty tired.”

“No way, Ashhleyyyyy,” Josh slurs. “You gotta stay. The night is young.”

“The night is middle aged at least, Josh.”

“I think the night is geriatric for you,” Jess pokes Josh’s belly. “I think you overindulged a little too much, mister.”

“I didn’t.”

“You smell like distillery. A cheap one. The sort Emily’s family would never get caught in.”

Josh whines. “You like how I smell.”

“Not when you smell like my Uncle Ralph after Superbowl.”

“Aha, well, just to prove to you I am not your skeevy uncle, let’s go have some fun.”

“Uh, are you sure you’d be able to...perform?”

Ashley swears she sees Josh blush. “No, I mean, dancing. Let’s dance.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Ashley says, suddenly not able to stomach watching them.

“Wait,” Chris catches her as she leaves the room. “Ash, just wait.”

“Why?”

He licks his lips. His hair is sticking up at odd angles and she has to repress the urge to smooth it down. “You’re really going?”

“I’m calling an Uber. Why?”

“Oh, well…” his skin seems to glow in the low light. “I wanted to give you something. If you are going.”

He’s holding out a tiny box to her. For a split second her stomach drops to her toes. This isn’t… he isn’t...they haven’t even _kissed_ yet?!

“Ash? Are you going to open it?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she squeaks. She opens the box, and -

“Oh Chris,” she whispers. “Oh my god.”

Within the box is a a pair of tiny, glittery silver earrings. She peers closer as sees they are each shaped as an identical reindeer with the little red nose.

“Rudolph, right? You did say he was your favourite.”

“Oh Chris, this is beautiful.”

“It’s no big deal. I mean, I know it’s July, but just for tonight, it’s Christmas. So Merry...not-Christmas, Ash.”

“Oh,” she thinks she may cry. “Oh, I love it. But, I didn’t get anything for you.”

Chris shrugs, looking away, as if bashful. “This is enough. You’re enough.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or because it’s been a long, hard semester and her nerves are shot, but she swears she actually swoons a little.

“Put them on me,” she orders.

With shaking hands he does. She takes off her studs and lets Chris do the rest, putting the Rudolph earrings on. His fingers are surprisingly agile. She catches his eye, wondering just what else he could do with those thick, sturdy fingers…

“Josh, Josh?”

Hannah. _Great_.

“Hannah?” Chris frowns, taking a step away. “Hannah, what?”

The middle Washington looks alarmed as she brushes a few strands of dark hair from her face. “Where’s my brother?”

“Inside, what-”

“Hannah?” Josh comes barging out from the dining room. “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you check your phone?”

“It was on silent. What, is everything okay?” her friend’s face tightens. “Where is Beth?”

“She’s talking with the police.”

“The police are here?” Jess asks, a step behind Josh.

“Someone called the cops? Crap,” Josh tries to straight his santa suit. “I’ll go talk to them.”

Jess laughs fondly. “I think Beth can take care of it.”

“But…”

“I can help,” Chris offers. He scoffs at Josh. “Sorry bro, but at least I’m sober.”

“Screw you, Cochise. You’ve had almost as much as me.”

“I think it’s safe to say this party is overrrrrrrr,” Jess sighs.

“I can’t believe someone called the cops,” Josh fumes. “It’s _Christmas_. Who wants to crap on Christmas? Huh? Well, actually, probably Mrs Drevich. She’s such a snitch for my dad.”

“Come on,” Ashley sighs, taking Josh’s arm. She isn’t in a mood for a rant. “Let’s go upstairs and see what we can do.”

 

+++

What they can do is: Not much. There are at least three cop cars outside. An frustrated looking Beth is taking to two officers, while Emily and Sam are directing streams of people towards the Washington mansion driveway. The music is off, and all Ashley can hear is the disappointed murmurs of two hundred-or-so drunken revellers.

“Bummer,” Chris says, watching as the crowd filters out.

“They’ll be another party. Cops can’t close them all down,” Jess says.

“I should talk to them,” Josh says. “Freaking cops.”

“Josh,” Ashley chides. “Your sister has this under control. See?” She points towards Beth, who is approaching them with an aggrieved look on her face.

“Bethy, what-”

“I told you,” Beth huffs. “I told you not to invite your stupid frat friends, Josh.”

“Oh, but it’s Christmas, Beth. I can’t help but spread Christmas cheer.”

“It’s July 23rd. No one is buying Christmas cheer for at least four months.”

“Is everything okay?” Ashley asks. “Are you guys going to get into trouble?”

“Trouble! Don’t let them get you in trouble, Beth, it was my idea, and -”

“Cool it, Josh,” Beth snaps, although she smiles, as if to take the edge out of her voice. “It’s fine. We just got a noise warning, no biggie. But the party’s over, okay?”

“Seems like it,” Jess sighs, rubbing Josh’s arm sympathetically.  

“Sam,” Hannah sounds relieved as her friend approaches. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Sam soothes. “Everyone’s practically gone. Matt and I just turned off the snow machine. Oh, wait, that reminds me: Can you go out near the pool, Han? Matt wants to say goodnight.”

“Oh, of course,” Hannah sighs, clasping her hands to his chest. “Isn’t he the best? Wait.” She shoots her sister a hard look. “I’ve got Sam tonight, remember? Don't you try taking her away from me. She’s staying with _you_ tomorrow night.”

Beth rolls her eyes. “I remember, dork.”

“In any other context, this conversation would be _so_ weird,” Chris quips. “Do you guys have, like, a Sam schedule?”

“I’m a lady in demand, what can I say. Anyway, Hannah and I have a lot to discuss, don’t we, Han?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Hannah says innocently, her voice as light as air. The pair share identical, devious looks. Ashley smirks. She wonders whether Matt’s ears are burning.

Next to her, Josh stiffens.

“Why would you have a lot to talk about?” he asks suspiciously.

“Relax, Colonel Hardass,” Jess teases. “Now. Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

“You’re leaving? But I thought you were staying over?”

“Uh, honey, no offence, but you don’t look up for the job tonight.”

“What?” he shakes himself out of Ashley’s grasp, swaying woozily as he does so. “Hey, that’s no fair. Cometh the hour, cometh the man, and all that.”

“Well, this man isn’t cometh. With me, anyway.” She gently strokes his face. “It’s fine. You’re lucky your present was so sweet I don’t even mind. I’m coming over on Tuesday though. You better be ready for me.”

“I’ll always be ready for you.”

Someone clears their throat. Ashley turns, seeing Emily standing by the door, a strangely thunderous expression on her face.   

“Jess? We have to go.”

“Ah, my carriage awaits,” she kisses Josh, ruffling his hair before turning towards Emily, looking thrilled. “Shall we?”

Emily scoffs, smiling despite herself. “Yes, yes, fine,” she says, as the pair of them filter out, neither sparing a glance behind them.

“I better have _my_ goodnight kiss then,” Sam says, threading her fingers through Beth’s. Beth smiles, her hard expression softening as she melts against her girlfriend, letting herself be kissed.

It’s lovely. It’s all lovely. It’s so lovely Ashley can’t stand to watch.

“Hey,” Chris says. As she catches his eye, she swears he looks perturbed, too. “Do you mind calling your Uber later? Might need to be on clean up duty.”

“Not at all,” she says, slinging Josh’s arm around her. Her friend is swaying, dangerous on his feet. “Come on, Washington. Let’s get you to bed.”

 

++++

 

Josh staggers. “I’m fine. F’in...fine.”

Chris sighs as they walk down the hall. It’s strange for the house to be so silent. “You’re not fine.”

“Says you. You had as much as me, Cochise, but you’re still standing. You’re ...You’re like  the USS Enterprise. Nothing gets to you.” He throws a hazy hand towards Ashley. “Isn’t that right, Ash? He’s huge.”

Ashley coughs, a bit thrown.  “Ah, sure, Josh. If you say so.”

“C’mon,” Chris sighs, throwing Josh’s arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Where’s Jess? Did you she really leave with Emily. She should join me.”

“Sorry wise guy, but that ship sailed after the second bottle of rum.”

“She coulda stayed.”

“And do what? Pat your beer belly?” Ashley teases, trailing a step or two behind her friends.

“I have’a fine beer belly. Very smooth. Supple.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” Ashley laughs.

“I am,” Josh agrees. His head lolls to the side, as he tries to focus on the pair of them. “You two are great, you know that? Like, real pals. Bros. Bestie bros.”

“Aw, shucks.”

“You’re the best bros a bro could bro.”

“Poetry, pure poetry,” Chris snickers, lugging Josh towards the basement. “Come on, Shakespeare, bed time. You can write us a sonnet later.”

 

+++

Josh’s room is a glorified basement, but it’s clean enough, save for a couple of discarded sweaters tossed over a chair. He’s packed a lot gadgets in a smallish space. To her right, a large bookshelf is almost overflowing with dvds, and to her left, she sees Josh’s camera, lying next to a pile of photos on his spartan-looking work desk. The television is obscenely large, with a small, weathered wii console tucked away beneath it. Just the tv is more expensive than everything Ashley owns, but Josh isn’t the ostentatious type. She’s grateful for it.

His room is also neater than she’s ever seen it. Everything is where they it should be, and recently clean. With a pang, she realises he probably expected company.

“ _Oh Josh_ ,” she thinks, pulling him close and squeezing tight.

Besides its neatness, the other thing she can’t help notice is his bed. Josh’s amazing, gargantuan, bed.

Suddenly, she wishes Josh had taken the couch. Because his bed is way too big to waste on one person.

 _Stop it_ , she chides herself, hoping Chris doesn’t notice how her cheeks color. _Seriously._

“Here you go, bro,” Chris says, breaking into Ashley’s thoughts as he helps Josh into his bed.

“Ah, dude. Fucking… fuck. Spinning….room”

“It’s okay,” Chris soothes. “Sleep it off. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Wait,” Josh tries to push himself up by his elbows. “Where’re my sisters?”

“They’re asleep upstairs. They’re fine.”

“My sisters are fine?”

“Your sisters are fine.”

“Good,” Josh sighs, and as if someone released a valve, he slumps to the bed, asleep before his head hits his pillow.

Chris chuckles, pulling the blanket back, ready to shove Josh, now a dead weight, inside. Ashley shakes her head, silently ushering Chris away. Then she gets to work. She pulls Josh’s boots off, one, then the other, before peeling his socks off too. It’s cool enough down here, but eventually the air conditioning will wear out, revealing that it’s not winter and is in fact the height of summer. He’s still mostly dressed in his santa gear, and  she doesn’t want Josh to overheat as the air turns. She nods to Chris, needing help with the rest of it .Chris is a natural nursemaid, mumbling soothing words to Josh as he pulls the covers over him, cocooning him in the blankets. Ashley plumps his pillows. She’ll never hear the end of it if Josh wakes up with a crick in his neck.

“Where’d you learn that?” Chris whispers as they take a step back

“What?”

“You know. You took his shoes off and made his pillows all nice and cozy. I didn’t even think of it.”

“Oh well,” she mumbles. “I used to do it all the time. With my dad. You know how it is.”

“Oh,” Chris says, looking away. “Okay. Sorry.”

Great. If she could kick herself, she would. She’s just gone and made things awkward.

She rubs her head, exasperated. The night feels stretched, as if all the goods bits have come and gone, leaving them with the dregs.

She had high hopes for tonight. Looks like she’ll be disappointed again.

“Hey,” Chris says suddenly.  “Wanna go up to Mr Washington’s study and steal some booze?”

“Chris! We can’t do that.”

“Why not? Why should _Josh_ be the one who gets to have all the fun?”

He grins broadly, and Ashley has to pretend really hard that her heart isn’t racing at just the thought of them being alone, really alone, with nothing but a bottle of booze between them.

“Okay,” she says, hoping her voice isn’t as squeaky as it sounds. “Cool. Let’s go.”

 

+++

 

“He has scotch? Like, fancy scotch.”

“Ew. Next.”

“Rum.”

“Ew.”

“Absinthe?”

 _“Ew.”_       

“Er, okay. Well there’s this, uh, French thing.” He squints. “It’s called Benedictine liqueur.”

“Oooh.”

“The recipe came from a bunch of a monks, apparently.”

“Ooooh, even better.” While she’s eager for a drink, she’s a little sad the show is over. She was enjoying the view as he reached up to scrutinise the bottles. “Ding, ding, ding. I think we have a winner. Can you have it straight?”

“Yep, looks like. With some ice… which,” he pulls out a tumbler from behind his back. “I just happen to have.”

She claps. “Yay, Chris!”

He pulls out the ice tumbler, more at ease in Josh’s dad’s study than he has any right to be. Ashley giggles, enjoying seeing him in his element, curling her legs underneath her as she sits on the study’s couch.

“Here you go, my lady.”

“Cheers.”

He takes a seat. “What are we cheering to?”

“Us?” The words are out before she can suck them back in. Chris’ face twitches, a subtle flick of a jawline but it’s enough to know he’s aware of the loaded meaning behind the remark. Ashley scrambles. “To us, like... being good friends and not losing control of our bodily functions like old drunky down there.”

“Oh. True. We are superior to Josh in every way.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Ashley tries to not to squirm as their fingers brush as they clink glasses. “Bottoms up. Merry Christmas-in-July.”

She smiles over the rim of her drink. Chris eyes are bright, shimmering with mischief.  She’s seen that expression before, and it usually means he’s up to no good.

A tiny ripple of excitement darts through her. She squeezes her legs together, trying to stave off the building heat between the thighs.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this night has only begun.

+++

 

“Ah. Crap.This way.”

“Chris, you’re crushing me,” she whines, pushing him away and stumbling down the hallway. “Wait. Isn’t Josh’s basement is this way.”

“Yep. Actually, wait. Wait,” Chris steadier on his feet than he should be, considering they made quick work of that French liqueur. He points to the living room. “Did you want to call that Uber? I'm not sure you should.”

“No. It’s too late now. Knowing my luck, some maniac would pick me up. I’ll stay the night.”

“Okay. Cool. Cool. You should sleep up here.”

Her body goes cold. “Why?”

Chris flushes. It only serves to make his eyes stand out more. “You should be comfortable. Even with blankets, Josh’s floor isn’t that great.”

“Oh, but…” she scrambles for words. “But I want you to warm me up.”

“Ash...”

“What?” The thought of sleeping on of one the Washington’s austere couches is almost too much to bear. She opens her eyes wide, beseechingly. She’s being transparent,  she knows, but it’s better than spending the night weighed down with regret. “C’mon, Chris. You’re basically a giant, squishy heater anyway.”

“Oh, so I’m a cushion now?”

“Yep.” She pokes his belly, liking how her finger sinks into his solid gut. “ Plus your sweater looks comfy. And, besides, we can’t sleep in Josh’s bed anyway. He starfishes. So, please Chris? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“Okay,” Chris says gruffly, looking away, but not so fast Ashley doesn’t catch his smile. “Fine, because it’s fake Christmas, I’ll be your human pillow.”

“Darn right,” she chirps. Chris grins, and Ashley’s struck, yet again, at how he looms over her. She’s tiny in comparison. He could pin her up against a wall and -

No. She can’t think that.

“Come on you big lug,” she says instead, turning on her heels and striding towards Josh’s door, hoping the dull light masks the shiver that runs down her neck.

 

+++

 

They scramble down the stairs, trying to shoosh each other, but somehow they get louder as they descend the stairs to the Washington basement. Ashley doesn’t think it’s their fault. The acoustics in this room is awesome.

“Shh,” She’s trying to be quiet, at least. “Gimme the blanket.”

Chris makes a face but hands it over, glancing warily over at Josh. He needn’t worry. Josh snores are loud enough to rouse the dead.

Ashley drapes two blankets on the floor. Josh always leaves a window open, making it a little warmer down here than the rest of the air conditioned house. She’ll probably overheat in her sweater, she thinks, pulling it off and draping it near the bed. She can feel Chris’ eyes boring into her shoulders, and she squirms, feeling a bit exposed in only a thin top and skirt.  It feels too awkward to linger so she hurriedly dumps the pillows down, making a tiny fort of varying heights with enough space for them both to comfortably fit.

“C’mon,” she says, discarding her shoes and getting under the makeshift comforter they took from Melinda’s laundry cabinet. They’re at the foot of Josh’s bed, and even through two blankets she can still feel the hard floor. But she’s slept in way worse places before. “Chris, stop standing around like a chump and get in.”

She swears she hears him suck in a deep breath, before the telltale sound of the scuffing of shoes on carpet.  He’s hardly nimble, so it takes him a little bit of time to get comfortable sliding in behind her, but eventually it all clicks into place. She nestles flush against him, her feet tangled around his shins and her head tucked underneath his chin.

“This okay?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

They lapse into silence. Ashley squeezes her eyes shut and wills herself to sleep. She’s tipsy, for sure. It’s been awhile since she drank so much and normally booze makes her drowsy. But she feels alert, the alcohol doing little to dull her sense. Behind her, she can sense Chris’ chest rising with every breath, feels the heavy presence of his chin on the crown of her head.

It’s surreal in a way. Ashley’s spent nights fantasising about this exact moment. Fantasising about falling asleep, cosseted safely in Chris’ arms. Sometimes, when she's sobbing so hard she can scarcely breathe, the thought of Chris has been the only thing that’s calmed her. And now, finally, she’s got what she’s yearned for. She _should_ be content.

Except. She isn’t. She chases sleep that won’t come. It feels futile to even try. When she closes her eyes Chris is everywhere. She’s almost overwhelmed by the scent of him, that flinty, musky smell that’s synonymous with him. One arm is draped over her, his body firm at her back. He feels just like a giant teddy bear.  It should be reassuring, but all it does is set her nerves alight.

“This this amazing.”

She wishes she could see his expression. “It is?”

“Yeah. I had a great time tonight. I almost don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither,” she whispers, snuggling as close to him as she can get.

Chris sighs heavily, as if he wants to say something, but as usual they lapse into heavy silence.

She groans, feeling the minutes tick agonisingly by.   _Why_ , hormones? Why now? Why can’t she just enjoy his company? Why does she have to suffer through this exquisite, awful, tension all the time? Why can’t they just _be_.  

Maybe she should go, she thinks, wiggling with frustration. Just for a little bit. Just to collect her ragged thoughts, to cool her overheated body down.

If only she was alone. Then she’d be able to slip her fingers between her thighs, and-

Behind her, she hears Chris let out an almost pained, strangled whimper, before going silent. Ashley frowns, on high alert. It sounds like he’s holding his breath. Why would be doing that?

It’s then she feels the subtle shift in him, his body tight like a bow. She’s sucks in a breath, feeling like she’s waiting for something to happen.

For something to snap.

Then it does.

Later, when she looks back at this with weary astonishment, she’ll think it was inevitable. But it wasn’t, or didn’t feel so at the time. Ashley could scarcely feel anything, anything except Chris’ large, clunky fingers stroking her waist.

He starts a little shyly, his touch furtive. But she doesn’t move away, can’t, frozen, somewhere between elation and fear. Her silence spurs him on, his strokes becoming firmer, more insistent.

Ashley shudders. From anyone else, she could even laugh this off as drunken affection. Jess is touchy. So is Sam. Chris is too, but _never_ in this context. Never in a way that could be construed as a come-on.

She whimpers as Chris fingers dip a bit lower, circling her belly button. It’s a light touch, but it feels magnified by a thousand. Ashley squirms, a throb of arousal running through her. It’s never been like this before. She’s never been so turned on so quickly.

She gasps as Chris presses down a little further, his fingers playing with the top of her skirt. Instinctively, she grinds against Chris, answering his unspoken question with one of her own.

 _Fuck_ , she thinks, a little giddy as she rubs her ass against his crotch. _Fuck_.

Her heart seizes when a hard bulge pressing against her butt.

“Oh god,” she whispers. She should stop. They should stop. But her body is traitorous and before can help it she grinds her butt against his straining cock. He feels rock hard as he rubs himself against her, groaning softly in her ear as he does.

Something inside her mind is screaming, telling her that they’re moving too fast, that she’s ruining their friendship, but the voice may as well be yelling against the wind, because she yields straight away when Chris growls, twisting her head to face his.

Fuck. He’s kissing her hard, pushing her down flat onto the floor. She moans into his mouth, pawing at Chris, trying to reach and touch any part of him. Now they’ve started she feels like she can’t stop. Not that she wants to. Not when she almost wants to sob _finally_ into his mouth.

He tastes like burnt orange and herbs and she knows she’ll remember this moment always when she smells the scent again. She deepens the kiss, feeling something stirring, something feral, within her.

“Ash,” Chris moans against her lips. “Ashley, this is so -”

“Shhh,” she grips his face, running her fingers through his hair, tugging him back down. “Shhhh.”

She throws away the blanket, pressing her hips against the bulge in Chris’ pants, her heart racing because she’s wearing a skirt and even though Chris is in jeans, it still feels like there’s barely anything between them.

“Jesus,” Chris whimpers, nipping Ashley’s lips. He lathers her neck with kisses, breathing her in and he meets her thrusts with his own as they rut against the floor.

“Oh fuck” she whimpers, wrapping her hand around Chris’ neck, urging him on. His strong hips are almost pinning her to the ground. “Oh my god.”

Chris breathes hard against her neck, nipping her skin, before soothing the mark with his tongue. She throws her head back, moaning, her head lolling on the pillow as Chris’ mouth sweeps downwards.

She didn’t think of what she was wearing. She didn’t think anyone would see underneath her sweater. It was why she wore a flimsy, white, button down top. One she’s had for years, along with her pleated skirt and boots. If she had known _who_ would be undresses her, she would have worn something sexy, although the lack of layers has its advantages.  

“Fucking things!” Chris growls. He doesn’t know his own strength, tugging at her buttons so hard she’s scared he’ll tug them off.

“Let me.” She tries to calm her shaking fingers. Unsteadily, she pops open the first four buttons, enough for her bra to be exposed to the humid air. She’s about to undo the rest of them before Chris brushes her hand aside, not even bothered to undo her shirt all the way as he dives down.

“Oh, yes,” she hisses. Chris pulls her straps down, tugging her bra halfway off. It’s her favorite but right now she couldn’t give a damn if it’s ruined for good. His mouth latches around her nipple, swirling and licking at the bud. Her boobs, small to begin with, feel tiny underneath his mouth and grasping hands. She groans, arching her back, pushing herself further into Chris’ mouth.

Her friend moans, sucking on Ashley’s tits fervently, rolling the bud between his teeth. Years of friendship means she knows he's inexperienced with women, but his enthusiasm makes up for a lack of finesses. If anything , his desperation makes it hotter,  especially as he clumsily uses his spare hand to cup and squeeze her unattended boob. His teeth graze a nipple, lapping at the hard bud as she chokes back a moan and claws at his godforsaken, ugly sweater.

“Chris,” she whispers into his skin. Her hands fly to his sweater. It’s soft, puffy. It sort of thing only a mother could love. Ashley , on the other hand, hates it. The sweater feels like a barrier, something else keeping Chris from her. She wants more than anything to take it off, for her hard nipples to scrape against his chest, but if they stop, even for a moment, they might not start again.

She couldn’t stand that.

She greedily slides her hand underneath his sweater and the shirt that’s under it. God. His chest is as broad as the rest of him. He’s got a solid, thick body that’s softened with just a little bit of fat. He’s hairy too. She runs fingers through it, her nails catching a little on his skin.  It feels like she’s been waiting forever for this.

“Yes,” she hisses, stroking her hands across his chest. There’s so much to explore so she doesn’t linger,  touching him everywhere she can, getting to know the broad contours of his chest.

He crashes their mouths together, slipping his tongue sloppily inside. It’s a hard, messy kiss. She likes it. She likes it even more as he moves to lie fully on top of her, his hips, with all that pent up force behind them, pinning her down.

“Oh, Ash” he whispers against her lips. “Ashley!”

She moans into his mouth. She knows. This is crazy. They shouldn’t be doing this.

Fuck. To hell with it.

“Ash!” he groans as she spreads her legs as wide as they can go. His body tenses for just a split second until he follows her lead, hiking her skirt up until it rests on her navel. Chris’ bulge feels enormous against Ashley’s thigh. His cock must be straining painfully against the fabric.

All it would take would be the lowering of a zipper and one firm push …

As if on cue, Josh lets out a garbled, loud snore. Ashley quivers, although for once it’s not with need. Chris stiffens above her, and, no. _No_. She’s almost wants to scream in frustration. Her cunt is throbbing with a steady, host pulse that almost aches to filled. Jesus. Chris can’t leave her hanging. He wouldn’t be so cruel? She’s not above begging. Not if it means Chris would keep going.

Josh snorts, turning over, his breathing getting heavy, and rhythmic again. Above her, Chris sags with relief.

 _Fuck_.

The enormity of the situation hits with a sharp thwack. She’s lying on her back on Josh’s seedy basement floor, legs spread, waiting to get fucked. It’s so...sordid. Disgusting. She’d judge a stranger for doing it. Except, somehow, that just makes it even more exciting. She feels like a whore. Like a slut. Slick and throbbing and practically begging for her cunt to get filled by one friend while the other sleeps.

“Ash,” Chris whispers. “Are you… are you sure?”

She grinds against his straining dick. He feels ready for her. “Yes.”

“Are you… are you sure you’re sure?”

“Chris,” she runs her hands down his face. Runs her fingers over those soft, almost girlish lips. “Yes. I want this.”

“Really?” There’s trepidation in his voice.

“Chris, I said I’m ready,” she says, impatiently. He sucks in a deep breath, and pressed flushed up against him she feels him quiver.

_Oh._

She might be ready. But that doesn’t mean he is.

“Chris,” she whispers against his neck. She stops grinding against cock, opting instead to run a soothing hand across his chest. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing I’d _rather_ do more than this.”

“Sure.” She’s never been good with tact. “But do you want your first to be…”

She leaves the sentence hanging but they both know what she’s neglecting to say. Chris is a virgin. She’s asking if he’d like to stay that way.

She’s practically trembling, the dull ache between her legs almost painful, but she’d rather be frustrated than make Chris do something he’d regret. She couldn’t stand that.

“It’s okay,” she says. Her hand grazes his face. She can feel the hint of stubble on the pad of her fingers. They’re so close she can sense his breath hot on her cheek. She catches his gaze, willing him to to know it’ll be okay. Whatever he decides, it will be okay.

She’s grateful just for this.

Just like that, his resolve snaps. He surges forward, kisses her hard as his hands fly down to her waist. He pulls her hips up and coarsely tugs her underwear down. He’s rough, touching her with intent. She feels a bolt of desire run through her.

He’s not kidding around.

She helps Chris, raising her hips and wiggling until her panties are discarded, somewhere unimportant. Her thighs fall open. She’s wet. Wetter than she’s ever been for anyone.

He grunts, undoing his fly and shoving his jeans a little way down a his hips. She tugs at him, pulling him forward by that god awful sweater, unwilling to let go of him even for a second. This is insane. He’s basically fully clothed, but god, she can’t wait any longer. Neither can he, it seems. Chris whines, glancing down and fiddling with his boxers and Ashley feels like her heart is in her throat as she spreads her legs for him and -

“Mmmhmm,” she throws her head back on the pillows as the head of his cock breeches her entrance. _Jesus._ He’s thick. Even the head of his cock is fat. She can feel him stretching her, filling her up, inch by inch. It aches a little, but Jesus, she could cry. It’s been a long time since she’s been so full.

“Is that - is that good?”

“Yes, baby,” she whispers, sneaking her hands underneath his sweater and over his bare chest again. “ I wanna feel you.”

“Oh god,” he moans. He glances up. Josh is shifting around in bed, but he’s still snoring. Still dead to the world. She thinks even Josh would be surprised. Lewd as he is, he’d never guess what his friends are doing, down on the basement floor.

“Chris,” she urges, a shock of arousal coursing through her. She cants her hips up. They don’t have time. He drags his gaze away from their friends and looks at her. She swears she sees his mouth quirk into a smile, but it melts from his face as he rocks into her again.

“Yes,” she groans, her nails digging into his skin. “Yes.”

Chris moans back as he gently thrusts into her. His movement is slow, nervous. As if he’s a frightened bull.

Ashley bites her lip. He looks so unsure, movingly languidly, thrusting inside her with a kind of awestruck reverence. She should be thankful. Chris is a big boy, and her cunt is only just getting used to the hot stretch. But while she’s grateful Chris is a gentleman, even now, there’s something inside her that craves more. Some hot and nasty urge that’s willing him to pin her down and ravage her. Make her ache and beg and _take_ it.

She moans softly. Where the hell did that thought come from?

“That’s so good Chris,” she whispers instead.  She moves her hand down, wanting to feel where their bodies meet.

“Wait, what?” she gapes. She gropes again, just to be sure. Just in case her lust filled mind is playing tricks on her. But no: She can feel at least two inches of his cock outside of her.

“You’re not fully inside me yet?”

“No. I uh...I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh my freaking god,” she gasps, running her hands through her hair. She already feels so full, fuller than she ever has before. This is insane. How can there be _more_?

“I knew, I mean, you know, the locker room and stuff. I had a feeling I was...a lot to handle. But, I can...  do you need me to stop?”

“No,” she snaps sharply. The word bounces off the walls, but thank god, Josh keeps snoring. “No, I. I want this, Chris. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

She groans. Why he is making this so difficult? All she wants is him. _All_ of him. Doesn’t he understand? She may never get to be with him again. And if all she’s going to get is a one-off drunken fumble, then she wants everything he has to give.

“Chris, I want you, give it me, I can handle it. I want all of it, deep, please -”

He growls, a low rumble that starts from his chest and reverberates out. She feels hands grip her waist and then -

 _Fuck._ She has to bite her lip hard to stop from gasping as he thrusts his cock inside, deep until she swears his balls are resting against her.  She fists the blankets. Her cunt is stretched wide, pulsing hot around him. He's buried inside her. She shivers with trepidation. It feels good now but what will happen when he starts to fuck her? It feels like he could split her apart.

Chris moans thickly, head thrown back in ecstasy.  They stay still, almost in awe at the feeling of Chris being fully sheathed inside her. It lasts for a moment before her friend rears back and rocks into her again.

She whines into the pillows as Chris begins to fuck her with thick thrusts. He pulls back almost all the way, before thrusting inside her. He’s fucking her with a kind of sloppy neediness that would be endearing if she wasn’t so fucking turned on. Ashley strangles a whine, jerking her hips up, scrambling for friction. She’s feels a little helpless, trapped underneath his enormous frame.

“Jesus,” she murmurs, clawing at his sweater. It shouldn’t feel this good to have her back digging into Josh’s squalid floor. “You feel so good.”

“Ashley,” he whimpers. His large hands pin her hips down as he fucks into her. “God, Ashley.”

She pulls his down all the way for a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue and strangled breaths. He tastes like burnt oranges. She deepens it, trying to etch the scent into her mind.

“Chris,” Ashley breathes into his ear, enjoying the course feel of Chris’ stubble on her face.  “God, you feel…”

He groans, pulling his dick out a few inches before thrusting back in. The deep drag of his cock would almost hurt if it wasn’t for the slick pleasure coursing through her. They’re pressed up flushed together, squished on the floor as they move and grind in an unsteady rhythm. Their height difference feels magnified now. He’s almost crushing her, his sweater scraping against her nipples as his enormous body jerks above her. They’ll be bruises, she thinks, choking back a moan as she claws at his shoulders. She can almost feel them booming purple on her thighs.  

They need to be quiet. She doesn’t want this moment ruined by Josh. But it’s hard. It’s hard not to scream when her whole body is on fire, their heavy pants reverberating around the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing inside her head. Below, she can hear the obscene squelch of her cunt getting fucked. She feels a flash of panic. Surely Josh could hear them. Surely Josh could smell them? Surely Josh could wake at _any_ moment?

Maybe Chris feels the same because he’s pumping into her as hard as he can, chasing an orgasm. He slams into her hard, making her tits jerk with every thrust. While it feels fantastic, his cock is starting to chafe. It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked like this. She’s wet enough to take him, but she needs more. Something to ease the pressure.

She needs...

Ashley pushes at Chris’ shoulders. Chris’ body goes slack immediately. He moves away from her, shifting his weight back to his knees. She whimpers at the strange sensation of Chris’ dick changing its angle inside her as he rearranges himself.

“Ash, what’s wrong?” she can hear the regret in his voice. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she whines. “God, no. I just need room.”

“Room?”

She answers his question by grinding her fingers against her clit. The relief immediate. Above her, she hears Chris actually whimper as he watches her touch herself.

She arches her back, thrusting her chest out, silently urging him to get on with it. But he’s as still as a statute, staring as her fingers stroke and rub her pussy.

She wants to whine in frustration, but she bites her tongue. She can hardly blame him for being shell shocked.  It must be overwhelming. He was so innocent before. Chris the virgin. Chris, who has barely been kissed. She once overheard Jess mocking his inexperience.

What would Jess think now?

If he was innocent once Ashley’s just debauched him. Well, whatever, she thinks, blushing at the squalid squelch of her fingers. She needs this. _They_ need this.

While it feels good to touch herself, it not enough. She craves Chris’cock, wants it to move and thrust inside her, and if he can’t do that, well, she’ll help him along.

She raises her hips up off the floor, her head digging into the pillows. Chris gasps as Ashley grinds against his cock.

Ashley flushes. God, how desperate is she? She’s fucking herself, putting on a squalid little show. Her tits are hanging out, her nipples slick and exposed to the night air. Her hair is sticking to her skin, shirt half undone, hanging off, while her bra strap is digging into her arm. She must look like mess, she thinks, biting her lip.

She must look like a whore.

Her skin burns as she grinds against Chris.  She’s never done this before. Ashley’s never fingered herself while grinding on a real, live dick. It feels nasty, wrong and right at once. She shivers, rocking desperately against him. Moving her hips up, again and again, fucking herself for Chris.

Chris growls, his eyes flashing hot, hot, hot, and maybe she moans, or he does, it doesn’t matter, not when he decides to stop being a passive participant. Not when his hands grab her knees and spreads her wide apart, rearing back almost all the way out before slamming into her so hard her whole body shakes.

 _Fuck_ . _Fuck. Fuck._

She turns her head, biting her pillow hard to stop herself from _screaming_ as Chris pounds into her the slap of his clothed hips against her skin reverberating around the room.  It hurts a little. She eases the pain, roughly fingering herself, sinking her teeth _hard_ into the fabric as her cunt clenches around him.

Above them, Josh slurs, shifting around the bed. It should be a warning but right now Ashley doesn’t give a crap what Josh does. He could get up and start filming them for all she cares. He doesn’t matter. The rest of the world doesn’t matter. She thrusts her hips up, clawing at Chris’ ugly sweater. She wants to _feel_ him. She wants him to fuck her into the ground, make her pussy ache so hard she’ll be feel his echo for days. This could be the only time. She wants to make it count.

“Ashley,” His voice is full of wonder. Chris digs his fingers hard into her waist with every thrust. “Ashley.”

She cries into the pillow, biting down so hard her gums ache. She’s scared if she moves her mouth away the whole house will know what they’re up to. Sam. Beth. Hannah. Josh. They’ll know she’s a nasty little cock slut. _Chris’_ cock slut. That she’s willing to spread her legs and let herself get fucked on the basement floor. Josh’s carpet smells like socks and stale weed, but somehow the sordidness makes her toes curl.

Above her, Chris is starting to shake, grunting hard thrust. Even in the gloom, she can see the heated pleasure course along his face.  

“Ashley. Ashley. I’m close. I’m so close. Babe, God, yes. _Fuck_.”

She can’t take her eyes off him, watching his beautiful face flush crimson with desire.  He jerks into her once, then twice before grunting loudly, shooting his load inside her.

It feels like forever until he’s finished, her cunt milking him for all he’s got. His body shivers, from his head to toe, until he slumps against her, breathing hard.

“Ash,” he moans into her hair. “Christ.”

She pets his damp neck. Now that he’s sated, his body may as well be a sack of cement, pushing her back into the floor.  She can feel his cum, thick and heavy, inside her. She squirms, a little self consciously. Chris blew a huge load inside her. Her poor, aching cunt is slick with their shared wetness, and she hopes she isn’t oozing onto the floor.

 _“I’m going to have to take care of that,_ ” she thinks, and almost laughs at how absurd this whole situation is. She thought she’d be buying a coffee today, not the Morning After Pill.

“Ashley,” Chris sounds a little more alert. He shifts off her, positing himself so he’s next to her on the floor. She pulls her skirt down, embarrassed at how dishevelled she is, compares to him.

“That was...freaking _rad_ ,” he wipes his brow. “Amazing. Jesus. Fuck. Fuck.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe it.” He sounds elated. He beams at her. “That was…. _awesome_.”

“Shhhh,” she scolds, but can’t keep the smile off her face. “I know.”

“You had fun too, though. Right?”

She runs her hand along his jaw. He’s adorable. “Yes, I did.”

“How much fun?”

“Lots of fun.”

“As much fun as I did?”

“Oh,” she stutters. Does he really want to know if…

“Ash?”

“No. Well.” She’s a not a delicate girl. “I didn’t come, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh,” he seems deflated. “Really?”

“No, but I had lots of fun. That was incredible, Chris. Honestly.”

“Yeah, but it would be better if you came, though, right? Logically speaking.”

“Oh,” she feels girlish all of a sudden. “Yeah, I suppose logically, that would be better.”

“Well then,” and Ashley swears she can hear the smirk in his voice. “I better get my logic on.”

“Chris, you are such a - _oh,_ ” she moans softly as Chris’ touches the slick heat between her thighs.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His eyes are as wide as saucers.

She groans, her limbs going limp, enjoying the attention. Chris’ touch is unsure, soft. So different to their brutish lovemaking. But it feels good, really good, as he runs a tentative finger from Ashley’s slit to her entrance.

Chris is concentrating hard, frowning in that way he does when he’s up against a puzzle he’s striving to solve. Though his face is pinched tight, his eyes are glazed, like he can’t quite believe he’s here.

“Chris.” She needs him present. “Chris, look at me. Please.”

He does, licking his lips nervously.“Is this good?”

“It is,” she whispers, grinding against his fingers.”Keep going.”

He doesn’t go inside, thank god, she’s not sure her poor aching cunt could take being fucked again. He runs his fingers up and down her again, before trying to go in circles, anxious, she thinks, to unlock what works.

“Is this...good?”

“It is. It’s nice.”

“Nice,” his fingers slow. Ashley has to choke back a whine. “That’s not what a guy wants to hear.”

“I’m sorry. But it’s really, good, just…”

“I’m trying to find your…. I just, it’s hard to get my bearings, Ash, I’m losing my mind here.”

He’s unbelievable. He just dumped a load of cum into her but he can’t say the word clit? She has to take a steady breath. She remembers Sam saying everyone she’s slept with, bar Beth, had no idea what to do with her the first few times they touched her pussy. And Chris is more inexperienced than most.

Well. Experience is the teacher.

She grabs him, her hand struggling to wrap around his wrist. She guides him upwards.

“Here,” she whispers, her heart clanging against her chest. “Like this.”

She moans in relief as he presses down on her clit, mirroring her motions from before. His touch is blunt: he’s more pushing down on her than anything but the pressure still feels so good, and she finds she’s on the cusp of orgasm already.

“Chris,” she mewls. He pushes down harder, making her writhe against the floor. “Yes, baby.”

He groans back, warming to his task, getting more confident with each stroke of his fingers. She whimpers, bucking against him, desire building within.

“Oh Jesus,” he whispers, licking his lips. They look parched. She wants to kiss him again, but she can’t move. She just wants to lie there and _feel_ it: the tension that builds with each push of his fingers. So instead she looks up, drinking him in, trying to commit his awe-struck face to memory.

 _You,_ she wishes she could say. _This is all for you._

“God, oh baby, yes, please,” she begs as Chris starts to swirl his fingers around her clit. Fuck. _Fuck_. Clever boy, she wants to say, but her voice trails off into a moan instead. The firm stroke of his fingers as they slides through her wetness makes her flush hot, makes her burn all over.

“You look so beautiful for me, Ash.”

She bites her lip so hard it hurts. He looms over her, his demeanor getting more confident with each second. _God_. For a second she wishes he could fuck her again but this is too good to stop. So she lays back; looks him in the eye and tries to ignore that vaguely mortifying fact that she’s getting fingered, on the floor, by a guy wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.

She would almost laugh except Chris is pressing down so firmly it makes her whole pussy throb and she cants her hips up, on the precipice , so close it makes her moan in delight.

“Are you close?”

“Yes, keep going…”

“Like this?”

“Yes!”

“Good,” and god, she would like to kiss the smirk off his beautiful face except it’s then the tension overwhelms her, and she comes, hard. She cries out, loudly, gripping the sheets as she rides out the waves of pleasure as she pussy clenches and releases, her open moans reverberating around the room.

After what feels like eternity, release. She slumps to the floor, sweaty and sated, her heart beating in her ears.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, feeling strangely euphoric. She grins up at Chris. “ _Wowee_.”

_“Wowsers.”_

“Shhhhh,” she giggles, struggling to catch her breath. She thwacks Chris’ arm. “Be quiet.”

“Yeah,” he glances up at the bed. “That ship might have sailed.”

“Let’s not make it worse, okay.” She whispers. She cranes her neck, sees that Josh is still breathing heavily, peaceful drooling on his pillow..

Chris nods, moving his hand away. Ashley shivers. She’s sensitive, her poor cunt sore but sated and too sensitive to touch but she misses Chris’ warmth already.

She can see Chris’ fingers glimmering with Ashley’s excitement in the low light. He stares at them, intrigued. He flushes a deep red when he catches Ashley looking, wiping the slickness away on his sweater.

She shivers. She wonders whether he’ll wash it later.

“Ash?” He sounds hesitant. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” he sounds sluggish. She can see he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. “I’m sorry to be a total cliche, but, can we sleep. I’m, er… kinda beat.”

“Me too, actually. It’s fine,” she says, squirming a around to give Chris enough room to snuggle behind her.

 _I should wash. I’m filthy_ , she thinks, but her limbs are heavy and it feel so comforting to have Chris’ large frame wrapped around her. Unlike earlier, she feels calm. His touch doesn’t excite her anymore. Instead, she feels secure, his enormous presence a comfort to his frayed nerves.

“That was amazing,  Ash. You're amazing.”

His breath is deep, heavy. He’s asleep within seconds, his breaths mirroring Josh. In a perverse way she wants him to stay up, for the pair of them to go upstairs and talk this through.  But she can barely keep her eyes open. And anyway; the ramifications of this are too nerve wracking for her sluggish brain to handle, so she closes her eyes and tries to think of nothing at all

 

++++

 

_Fuck._

Ashley’s eyes feel prised shut, slick with gunk and runny mascara. She rubs her eyes, her neck feeling strangely stiff.

It takes her a few seconds to gather her bearings. The room is unfamiliar at first; with movie posters on the walls and gadgets neatly stacked everywhere. So different from hers; with all her clutter and mess and books everywhere. She groans, shaking her head, trying to wake her senses.

Oh.

Ashley reels, as if bowled over by a train. She twists her neck and sees Chris behind her, snoring peacefully, hair all smooshed against the pillow, his face the essence of innocence.

 _Jesus_ . Even if the memories weren’t there, bright and vivid and sexy-as-hell, she wouldn’t need to call _Poirot_ to figure out what happened. The clues are everywhere. The strewn blankets, the discarded clothes, even the faint smell of musk that lingers in the air. But the most damning evidence is on her own person; the bruises on her hips, the residual wetness between her thighs. Her lips are bruised but that’s nothing compared to the ache she feels inside.

 _Well,_ she thinks _I did want to get fucked last night, didn’t I?_

Of course she did. And she wanted Chris, most of all. But now, does she have him? Is everything going to fall into place?

Or...

Are they going to pretend this never happened? Will he want to take it back?

Will he want to look her in the eye again?

She has to fight the urge to shake him awake, except this is not the time. Not when Josh is murmuring, tossing around his bed as if the slightest noise will rouse him. That’s the last thing they need. The last thing she needs.If they’re going to make sense of this, they need to do it without meddling. So, with a regretful glance down at Chris, she moves to leave.

It’s an excruciating few minutes. She can’t find her underwear anywhere. For a second she contemplates leaving anyway. She wouldn’t be the first girl to leave her panties in Josh’s room, but her friend is far cleverer than people give him credit for. He’ll put two and two together and she’ll never live it down.

Plus, they were not even her _nice_ panties.

Eventually, she has all the incriminating evidence, and darts out of the basement so fast she can scarcely catch her breath.

The Washington house is the scene of a Christmas slaughter. It’s like someone ripped a picture out of a Christmas catalogue and smashed it. There’s tinsel everywhere, along with broken ornaments, torn down lights and, of course, booze bottles. She hopes Beth will not be responsible for cleaning this carnage. She’ll be grey before she’s thirty at this rate.

Although, Beth’s worries are nothing compared to Ashley’s.

She runs to the spare bathroom down the hall, locking the door behind her. As she feared, she looks like someone who had their brains fucked-out the night before. Her hair is clinging to her forehead, her mascara smudged around her eyes and her lips puckered crimson.

She looks like the type of girl she’d smirk at. The sort of girl you see sheepishly tiptoeing to a car or cab, undertaking the time-old tradition of the walk of shame.

Except. No. There’s no shame in this. She loves Chris. She has for a long time, perhaps longer than she’s admitted to herself. Her feelings blossomed almost despite herself. Despite her malignant mind telling her she isn’t worth it. That someone as earnest and sweet and charming as Chris would never love a broken girl like her. But even those thoughts were futile. She loved Chris because she did. And she hopes, maybe, he loves her a little bit too.

So no. Whatever happens: she will not be ashamed.

+++

 

She’s lucky in a lot of ways. Having to hide means knowing when to lie, when to obscure and when to deflect. Her father is a suspicious man, with a cruel streak that can be almost Biblical, but Ashley has learned a few tricks along the way. Despite the fact Chris’ scent is clinging to her skin her father is none the wiser. In fact, he even throws her a terse smile as he leaves for his long shift at work, unaware that his daughter’s world as been thrown upside down.

Ashley sighs, playing with her phone. It’s almost twenty-past-twelve.. Chris and Josh do a good impersonation of a sloth, but even those two will drag their sorry asses out of bed by midday.

Which means Chris is probably sitting in his truck, staring at his phone, too.

 

Ashley frowns, her mind flashing constantly flashing back to the night before. It’s strange what her mind remembers the most. She’s not lingering over the pleasure, or how her body aches in the best possible way.

No. She can’t stop thinking about Chris’ eyes. You can’t fake tenderness. She’s seen men looking down at her with naked lust, or even gratitude as they moved and thrusted inside her, but tenderness? No. Not like that.

Then again, it’s not as if Chris could ever be a furtive fuck. Not when everytime he smiles at her, it feels like her heart turns upside down in her chest.

She can stand a lot of things. She hasn’t lived a gilded life. But more than anything, she couldn’t stand it if they went back to how there were.

 

**From Ashley:**

**Hey. You awake?**

 

Her phone beeps almost instantly.

 

**From Chris:**

**Yeah. How are you? Are you okay? I’m so glad you texted.**

 

**From Ashley:**

**Yeah. I’m good :) But I think we should talk,  though. don’t you think?**

 

She holds her breath, but he texts her back, just as fast as before.

 

**From Chris:**

**Yeah. I think we do. My mind is still totally blown, by the way. I totally had to convince myself that it wasn’t a vivid dream this morning.**

 

**From Ashley:**

**If it was a dream, would it have been a good or a bad one?**

 

**From Chris:**

**The best, Ashley. I couldn’t have had a better one.**

 

**From Ashley:**

**Good. So, can you come to my place? My dad is out.**

 

 **From Ashley:** **  
** **I really want to see you.  I miss you already.**

 

**From Chris:**

**I miss you too. I'll be there within an hour.**

 

Ashley sighs, slumping against her chair, scarcely able to draw breath.

 

Things won’t be the same between them.They can’t go back to how they were.

 

But maybe that’s just what they need.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I love these adorabble nerds. Also, I definitely earned that explicit rating tag.
> 
> I should credit my pal Chris who helped me forumlate this story. If it was rubbush, you're at least somewhat to blame ;)
> 
> If you liked this or not, please drop me a line feedback is like melted cheese on toast to me, delicious and necessary.
> 
> But finally, thank you, as ever, for reading.


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